


What's it Gonna Take to Strike a Spark?

by ClockworkWerewolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Vernon Boyd & Erica Reyes, Alpha Derek, Alternate Canon, BAMF Chris Argent, BAMF Stiles, F/M, Green Werewolf Eyes, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Multi, Pack Feels, Purple Werewolf Eyes, Sassy Peter Hale, Spark Stiles Stilinski, mostly 3a compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 21:27:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2483033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworkWerewolf/pseuds/ClockworkWerewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has been having weird dreams recently, but that's not even the start of his problems. Not only is there an Alpha pack threatening the Hale pack, but there is a Darach (Dark Druid) sacrificing the residents of Beacon Hills. Everything seems to be getting more and more hopeless to Stiles, until a young woman who seems vaguely familiar arrives with her werewolf friend to help him pull his life, and the life of his pack mates together; showing Stiles that he just might have the power to save them all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's it Gonna Take to Strike a Spark?

**Author's Note:**

> I really need to work on my summary skills. Anyways, this fic takes place during season 3A. Anything after has not happened yet, but I will be sticking somewhat to the timeline, with more than a few minor changes. Alpha pack and Darach just seemed to fit this idea the best. Please Rate and Comment if you are so inclined. Enjoy.

The plain stretched on for miles and miles, dark clouds rolled over head and the occasional crack of thunder sounded through the never ending stretch of land. The only anomaly in the flat expanse was the giant oak tree that he found himself standing beneath. He did not remember how he ended up here, and every fiber of his being told him that he was dreaming. This was, however, not a typical dream for him, much to calm and straight forward for his ADHD mind. Lighting cracked onto the ground just a few yards from him, the residual thunder was loud in his ear, causing him to jump. A figure now stood where the lightning had previously struck, a figure that felt familiar, but he could not place her. It was a small woman, no taller than 5’2”, maybe 5’3”. She had bronzing brunette hair and her eyes were a golden hazel, very similar to his own. 

“Stiles…” the woman said his name, it was soft and held a power to it, and Stiles could have sworn he heard his real name on the wind underneath the name the woman had actually spoken.

“Who are you? How do you know my name?” He shouted to be heard over the thunder.

“Stiles….” The woman repeated, she seemed to be barely there, flickering as if she were a light bulb losing power. “They’re coming. You …..” She flickered again.

“I’m what? Who’s coming?” Stiles tried to take a step towards her, but found himself rooted to the spot he stood on.

“They’re coming….” She repeated, “You must find your spark soon….you have to survive….until we can get there….Stiles….”

“Who are you?!” The woman was getting harder and harder for him to hear.

“I’m…” but she never finished that sentence because I bolt of lightning hit the ground directly behind Stiles jolting him from his sleep.

Stiles bolted up in to a sitting position in his bed. His recently longer hair soaked through with sweat, as was the worn out shirt he was wearing. He turned to look out the window to see that the sky was completely clear and that there was no moon in the sky. “What the hell was that?” He asked himself out loud as he climbed out of the bed. He knew he would not be falling back asleep anytime soon. A quick glance at his clock told him that is was only 2:36 in the morning. He sighed running his hand through his hair and approached the window. A quick glance at the driveway told him that his dad was home, probably already asleep. That gave him a bit of comfort. His dad was working way too late, way too often, the man needed sleep or he was going to run himself into the ground. He was about to move away from his window when he noticed a shadow turning the corner down the street. “Derek?” Stiles asked confused. He couldn’t be certain, but the shadow had resembled Beacon Hill’s resident Alpha, but what would Derek Hale be doing on his street? He shrugged it off as a lack of sleep from all the new Alpha Pack business that they had been dealing with, not to mention the Darach and its ritual sacrifices.

He sat at his desk and booted up his computer. He hadn’t been able to find much about the Darach and the sacrifices, and even less about the Alpha pack; he was starting to feel kind of useless. Sure he had figured out about the virgin sacrifices, then the fact that it had moved on to soldier, or warriors, but he was stuck now. What he wouldn’t give to have an accurate record on the supernatural, something like the laptop with the Hale archive on it, or maybe Deaton had some books he could borrow. He would ask in the morning. Right now it was the dream that was bothering him. The woman had said something about a spark, he remembered Deaton saying something similar during the Kanima incident a few months back. The problem was that if he were to even consider trying to look up ‘spark’ on the internet, the results would be all over the place. Instead he decided to look up specifics from the dream. He searched dream sites about lightning and tree’s and open fields, but everyone seemed to have a different opinion. He moved on to more supernatural based sights, but he couldn’t trust any of it to be true or accurate, so he eventually gave up. Tomorrow he would try the local library and Deaton. Maybe if he worked up the courage he would confront Derek about the laptop that Derek and Peter had used to get information on the Kanima. Stiles climbed back into his bed, letting out another sigh as he stared at the ceiling, his mind still racing. He closed his eyes and he must have fallen asleep because the next time he opened them it was to the sun coming in his window. He groaned and glanced at is clock. 8:40, thank god it was Saturday. He rolled over pulling the sheets over his head to block out the light. He knew he should get up soon so that he could start figuring shit out, but he was so damn tired.

He was almost back to sleep when a knock at his door pulled him out of it. He groaned a bit and heard his dad’s voice through the wood. “I’m going back into work, Stiles, they found another body. There are a couple pancakes on the kitchen table.” The Sheriff sounded more worn than Stiles felt and he pulled himself from his bed, knowing that any thoughts of further sleep were an illusion.

“Yeah, okay,” he would normally ask questions, but he knew what the outcome would be. Strangled, throat slashed, and head bashed in; it was what happened to all the Darach’s victims. “Dad?” He said after a brief pause.

“Yeah, son” The Sheriff sounded like he was anticipating Stiles' usual questioning.

“Be careful will you?”

“Yeah, I will. See you tonight.” Stiles stayed in bed, leaning his back against the headrest, listening to his father head out the front door and pull away in his squad car. He groaned again, hitting his head back against the headrest a couple times before getting out of bed, planning to take a quick shower to wake up, but first, pancakes.

An hour and a half later, Stiles found himself standing outside of Deaton’s clinic. He had decided to stop there first, just in case it would save him a visit to the library. The sign out front, however, read closed. That either meant that Deaton was on a house call or there was some potential supernatural shit going down in there that he probably did not want to walk in on. He turned and headed back to his jeep, looks like he would have to search the library after all. This whole Deaton being cryptic and never around to help, thing was really starting to grate on Stiles’ nerves. As he started up his engine, he hoped that the library would have something because, honestly, the last thing he wanted to do was interact with any of the Hales’.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he found the library to be basically empty; he did not really want to deal with interacting with people or dealing with the awkward stares when he inevitably started talking out loud to himself as he researched. He had the legends and lore aisle memorized and he seated himself on the floor, leaning against the bookshelf with a pile of books beside him and a notebook in his lap. For a small town, Beacon Hills had a surprising amount of books on the supernatural, he briefly wonders if the Hale family that had once called the place their home had anything to do about that, or perhaps the Hunters that seemed to frequent the town as much as werewolves did. He had the typical books on werewolves and a few on druids, just in case the dreams were connected to either of those things, but he was getting nowhere fast. The most infuriating part was he had scoured many of these books before, when Deaton had first mentioned the spark, but he could find nothing referencing to it in any of the books. He was becoming very disheartened; researching was supposed to be his thing, but he had been getting nowhere lately. It made him feel even more like the useless human of the group than he normally did. “Knock that off, Stiles,” He chastised himself with a whisper as he slapped his hands against his cheeks. “None of this ‘woe is me’ crap, you are useful, you’ve figured shit out before. Hell, where would Scotty even be now without you?”

“Mr. Stilinski?” A voice called out his name, startling him. “Are you alright?” He looked up to see the new English teacher, Mrs. Blake, standing over him, looking down at him in concern.  
“Yeah,” he lied, “sorry I’m just looking up information for a report I’m working on.”

“A report about werewolves?” she looked down at the stack of books on the floor, the top one simply titled ‘Lycanthropy.’ 

“Uh….yeah….I’m researching how the legend of werewolves has changed throughout the course of history,” he quickly improvised. “I’ve found a whole bunch of different stories from different cultures. Did you know that Celtic lore has a totally different view on werewolves than…?”

“That’s very interesting Mr. Stilinski,” Mrs. Blake interrupted him, “but I meant you look a little stressed out.”

“Ah, yes, I am, a bit,” Stiles admitted, deciding to go for a bit of truth. “It’s all these murders. I’m worried about my Dad, since he’s the Sheriff and all, and he’s always working, hardly sleeps anymore, plus this probably puts him in a lot of danger…I’m sorry I’m rambling.”

“It’s quite alright, Mr. Stilinski. I’m sure everything is going to be fine. If you ever need to talk about anything though I’m here to listen,” Mrs. Blake offered as she placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. Stiles couldn’t explain it, but that touch send a cold shiver through his body, but that made no sense. Mrs. Blake seemed like a really good person who cared about her students, she shouldn’t be making his hair stand up on the back of his neck like this.

Stiles swallowed in order to get his voice back. “Thank you Mrs. Blake, I really appreciate it.” He stood up quickly and bent down to pick up the stack of books he had accumulated. “I’m sorry to rush out on you after you’ve made me feel better and all, but I was planning to bring my dad lunch at the station today and I’m already running later than I was planning to.”

“No problem, have a good day, Mr. Stilinski.” She smiled sweetly at him and it just made Stiles all the more anxious.

“You too, Mrs. Blake, see you in class.” He quickly walked past her, setting the pile of books on an open table and rushing out of the library. Once outside he took in a deep breath of fresh air to calm himself, before taking a quick glance back towards the library and hopping into his jeep. The stress must be really getting to him if he was starting to have mild panic attacks around people whom he had no reason to freak out over.

“Stiles?” A familiar gruff voice asked in surprise. Stiles looked up to see Derek Hale looking at him in mild concern. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. What are you doing here?” Stiles didn’t think he really cared why Derek was there, but the question spilled out anyway.

Derek gave him a look that told him the wolf didn’t think it was any of his business, but he replied anyway, it was probably because of how panicked and disarmed Stiles looked, and smelled for that matter. “I’m here meeting someone, if you must know. Good day, Stiles.” Derek started to walk off when a hand shot out and grabbed his arm.

He looked at Stiles then down at his hand and then back at Stiles again. “Just…be careful in there,” Stiles said before letting him go. Derek stopped to give him an incredulous look that said that he didn’t think there was much in a library that would be dangerous to him. “I….I just…look man, I don’t know how to explain it, but something in there gave me a really creepy feeling…,” Stiles sighed, knowing he sounded crazy. “Just keep your eyes open is all, okay?” Derek nodded in affirmation before turning back towards the library. “Oh, and Derek,” Derek stopped and looked back at him with a ‘what now?’ expression. “Um….can I come by your place and take a look at the Hale bestiary? I am trying to find out something to help us with the Darach and the sacrifices.”

Derek sighed, “Sure…just…come by later tonight when I’ll be home, unless you want to be alone in the loft with Peter of course.” Derek shrugged

“Right,” Stiles shivered. “I’ll be there at eight then?” He phrased it as a question to be sure Derek would be home by then. Derek nodded and turned back towards the library entrance, not stopping another time. Stiles knew he had been seen hanging out with Mrs. Blake and he had a feeling she may be who Derek was here to see, but he couldn’t very well tell him he should be careful around her with no evidence, it wasn’t like he had a reason to dislike her. None of that made him feel any better about letting Derek walk into that library alone to meet her. He shook the unsettling feeling from his head and practically ran back to his jeep. He supposed it was time to try Deaton again.

Deaton still wasn’t back when Stiles went by again, which was weird since it was his normal business hours. Stiles decided to call Scott to see if he knew whether Deaton was out of town or not, but his friend didn’t pick up his phone. He was probably with Allison, or Isaac, but it still made Stiles worry a little. He looked at the time on his phone and realized that it was almost lunch time. With nothing better to do, Stiles figured he’d actual do what he led Ms. Blake to believe he was doing anyway. His dad needed to eat healthier and knowing his father he was probably too wrapped up in his case to remember to get lunch anyways. If he remembered correctly, the local grocery store had their salmon garden salad on sale, he could totally get that and get it to the station before his dad ever noticed it was lunch time.


End file.
